


Ordinary Pleasure

by Suiyobi



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Medical Professionals, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 07:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20542364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suiyobi/pseuds/Suiyobi
Summary: Miss Pauling desperately needs a break. When she rejects Medic's offer of drugs, he suggests a more "natural" way to relax. She ends up expending a lot more energy than she anticipated.





	1. Hysteria

Her temple throbs beneath her fingertips. Miss Pauling stares at the paperwork on her clipboard, furiously scrawling notes and filling in blanks. Evaluating the mercenaries was always a... _ tall order.  _ Not to mention time-consuming. Her hair was already looking ragged and unfurled, wild black hairs falling loose from the composure of her chignon.

The mousy assistant pushes her cat-eye frames up and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Watching Medic...be Medic was always an exercise in dispensing disbelief. He did things with medicine -- with corpses -- that one could only imagine. It was admirable in its own way, if not a bit mad.

“Am I boring you, Miss Pauling?” Ludwig inquires with a loft of his patrician brows. He’s elbow-deep in the open chest cavity of a dead Scout. Extracting an uber device for later use. It was a little more efficient than mass manufacturing, which would be necessary given the deaths on the battlefield day-in and day-out. It was no small wonder that Medic even got to participate, given how demanding his occupation was.

“I’m just tired, Medic,” Pauling replies, her green gaze settled on her clipboard. She never lifts her head. In fact, she’s not even evaluating Medic at the moment. She’s still writing about Demo, making notes and recommendations to battle his losing fight with the bottle. Not that it ever seems to affect his performance.

Finally, she sets her clipboard and pen down, perching the pair on an empty stainless steel operating table, shoved into a dark corner.

Medic stands in a ring of fluorescent light, humming to himself as he works. It was well past midnight -- not a sliver of light entered the operating stage save from the one, large overhead light. It cast harsh shadows, somehow heightening the smell of blood and disinfectant. 

Pauling steps close enough to illuminate her lower half. It’s a distraction to Medic, who can’t help but take note of the shapely flare of her hips. It reminds him of wife. Er, ex-wife. Too much time spent in the company of men. Maybe he was just used to  _ her _ . Pauling. The only woman he really could say he knew (and did he?), least of all engaged with, in the past several years.

“Ja, well,” he starts, yanking a gore-covered device from the Scout’s heart. Well, actually, the whole heart comes out along with the device. Unbothered, the German stuffs the organ back where it belongs. Approximately. “You have seemed tense lately,  _ fraulein _ . The Administrator is working you hard!  _ Oh-hoho! _ ”

Tossing the uber device into a bucket to be cleaned, he wipes his hands absently on his white coat. 

“Not harder than usual,” corrects Pauling, handing Medic a cloth to clean up, a subtle reminder that that’s not  _ really  _ what his coat is for. “You’ve got blood on your face.”

“Do I? How messy.” he smirks, tsking at himself. He takes the cloth and scrubs it over his face. The blood had dried, causing it to patch and flake off rather than smear. 

“You got it,” Pauling confirms, stepping further into the light. He can smell her. This morning, perhaps she washed with some vanilla-scented soap, but the scent long-vanished beneath the odor of blood, sweat, and dirt. Mostly dirt, he could discern. She must have been on corpse disposal today. No wonder…

“You know, I can give you somezhing to help you relax, Miss Pauling,” Medic suggests, wearing that doofy, enthused grin he often adopts. Her bloody, gloved fingers gently light on her shoulder as he passes by to root around in a medicine cabinet. “I suggest a dose of this, a hot bath, and bedtime.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Pauling teases with a weary smile. 

“Doctor’s orders.”

“You lost your license.”

“And kept my education.”

The woman snatches the bottle from Medic. She could tell by the name of it that it would make her drowsy. Ugh. She’d sleep, sure, but there was no guarantee she’d be able to wake back up in the morning. Which, for her, was only a few short hours away. 

She waves it off and hands it to Medic, who frowns and offers a new suggestion. “Perhaps you’d prefer a more... _ natural  _ way to relax,  _ fraulein? _ ”

“Um. Like what? Warm milk?”

Medic chuckles, locking the medicine cabinet. “No, no. Nothing so childish. I’m thinking more…” a pause, he shakes his head as if it’s a bad idea. “Well, it’s entirely inappropriate, so perhaps not.”

Her brow lofts. Curious and now, a little wary. “Just say it, Medic.”

“Vell. Do you know how doctors used to treat zhe condition of  _ hysteria  _ in women?” He makes a somewhat crude hand gesture. “There wasn’t anyzhing wrong with them, per se. They just needed ah...release, ja?”

The way he kept talking around it makes Pauling rub her temples in irritation. “Right, you mean they gave them an orgasm, I get it.”

“They  _ tried, _ ” laughs Medic. “Zhe men were so unskilled zhat they had to invent the first  _ vibrator! Ho!”  _

Pauling offers a sly, proud smirk at the doctor. “Huh. So what I’m hearing is  _ medical professionals  _ don’t exactly have a PhD in the bedroom.”

“Vhat?” he seems taken aback. “No no, I assure you, I am schooled well in the art of ah...love.”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

“Vell..” Medic coughs into his fist, take a few steps to close the distance between himself and Pauling. “Wasn’t it implied,  _ fraulein? _ ” Gingerly, his hands cup her petite face. His blue eyes rake over her features, the mussed hair, the dark circles and faded lipstick. 

“Let me help you, ja?”


	2. Polka Dot

Miss Pauling, for a moment, doesn’t totally comprehend what Medic is asking her. He watches her connect the dots with the widening of her eyes. It was late. Judgment? Probably bad. But something about it, well. It sounds nice. 

She hums disagreeably as her hands cover his. Slowly, they tug his hold away from her face. “This doesn’t leave this room.” Pauling asserts, guiding his hands then to her hips. He squeezes, though not too hard. His heart was racing! 

“And it’s only for...science, I guess.” Such a liar, Pauling. She turns around, indicating the zipper to her pencil skirt. The garment hugs her curves beautifully, Medic noticed. He hadn’t paid that much mind, as his attentions were always pulled a thousand directions. “Egh…” the German pats her hips and turns away. She watches silently as the mercenaries pulls his gloves from his fingers, revealing strong, scarred hands. He shrugs off his coat and Pauling’s eyes dance. 

His figure, strong and firm, looked good in just that dress shirt, tie and suspenders. Medic rolls up his sleeves and, smiling warmly, returns to the petite woman. His fingers urge the zipper of her skirt down with unexpected gentleness. Because of its form-fitting design, he has to tug at the hem to get it to fall from her hips and down around her feet.

The German’s eyes sharpen with hunger, taking in the sight of her shapely ass, accentuated by the curve of garters. Her panties were plain and mismatched -- a pattern of little purple polka dots on white cotton -- an oddly endearing contrast to the utilitarian, black garter belt and worn stockings. 

Medic reaches around her shoulders, his chin resting in the curve of Pauling’s neck as he unbuttons her blouse. 

He doesn’t pull it from her shoulders when he’s finished but instead leads her to the unused stainless steel operating table, half-shrouded in darkness. 

The mercenary lifts her up and brings her to sit at the edge. Their eyes meet, a silent question asked and answered between them. Pauling nods, allowing her fingers to linger on Medic’s shoulders. He doesn’t break his eyes away from her even as thick fingers press against her through her panties. 

When she shudders, Medic smiles. Hasn’t been touched in awhile has she? Gently, he tugs the garment aside, calloused fingers stroking the gentle furl of her sex. He presses, as if to gain entry, watching Pauling’s face. She snatches his wrist, trembling though she holds firm.

“Not yet.”

Medic pauses, then nods, redirecting his touch to that sensitive bud just a little higher. He presses, moving his fingers in an agonizingly slow circle. Pauling’s breath hitches in her throat, legs twitching. Very slowly the German builds up steam, sending jolts of pleasure to the very core of her at a more frenzied pace. Leaning over her, he seizes those plush painted lips in a kisses. He feels her shudder and melt under him. 

It’s then that Medic drops down, urging her knees further apart. “Ja, Miss Pauling. We’re feeling better already, aren’t we?” he purrs, pulling a small rolling stool up so he can sit.

“Don’t talk--hhh!” Pauling twists up as a lightning bolt of pleasure richots from between her thighs all the way up her spine. Ludwig has brought his mouth to her, hot tongue flicking at her clit, pressing and teasing. Pauling seizes him by the hair, panting and pulling at his salt-and-pepper cut. He looks good like that, she thinks. Messed up, just a little. 

Medic hums his satisfaction again her sensitive flesh, painting pleasures with his tongue until her thighs are shaking around him. 

All the while, his eyes, sharp and blue, are on her face, the heave of her modest bosom. He can tell when she’s close, that tension in her thighs spinning out into twitches. When he sees her bite her knuckle to stifle a moan, his cock begins to strain painfully against his trousers. Begging for freedom, for a touch. Perhaps her mouth -- it is a pretty mouth, with plush, soft lips. Ludwig pulls away, silent as he moves on to the next stage.

He takes her heels from her feet, beginning at the bottom. Medic doesn’t bother with undressing her completely. No, he only detaches those ragged stockings from the garters so he can roll her panties down her thighs and off. 

There’s a pause, some awkward shuffling, as he undresses. Shoes. Socks. Trousers. Boxer-briefs. All come off, and he’s working on his tie when the woman in front of him snags the silk length and yanks him close to her. Her face is flush, gaze lost and wanting. Ludwig grins.

“You’re wasting time,” chides Pauling, shifting on the table, now warming around her from her body heat. 

“Am I? Ja…” he murmurs with a bemused smile. “Come here,  _ fraulein. _ ” Medic doesn’t wait. His hands grab at her thighs, tracing the curve and hollow of her hips. He urges the slight woman to slide off the table and turn around. 

Pauling obeys the silent guidance, bending and stretching her form so that he ass pillows against Medic’s hips. He groans, cock twitching with a want to be tight inside of her. 

“Hey.” Pauling stops him, a moment of clarity on her features. “Condom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. We'll get into the real good stuff in the next chapter.


	3. Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then they fuck. o/

“Oh! Apologies, Miss Pauling, of course, of course.” Medic seems genuinely apologetic as he retreats to the medicine cabinet. Pauling, by contrast, is still where she is, though her fingers slip down between her thighs. A little self-pleasure while Ludwig gets his shit together.

There’s the soft, near-inaudible tear of a foil packet and a grunt from Medic as he rolls the latex sheath over his eager length. He’s with her then, murmuring his apologies again, this time in German. They sound harsh and commanding even as his tone is soft and well-meaning. It makes a jolt of lust blossom at her core. Her manicured (albeit chipped) nails whine against the stainless steel. 

He’s hot. She can feel him throbbing against her, those deft fingers sliding in first to prepare her for more. Ludwig curls his digits downward, scissoring them within her -- seeking out that roughened patch of sensitive nerves.

Miss Pauling bucks her hips, teeth ground in impatience. She gasps. He grins. His hand leaves her and finds himself, acting as a guide as he performs that first easy thrust. The German can’t contain himself -- he moans low and animal until his hips rest flush to Pauling’s rear. 

“ _ Mein Gott! Du hast einen schönen arsch _ .” Ludwig growls, an open palm slapping one firm, full cheek. Pauling gasps, reveling in the sting along with the heat of him buried in her. Ever impatient, the woman rolls her hips, slamming back against Ludwig so hard she nearly loses her balance.

Medic laughs, both hands clasping his waist to both keep her upright...and to anchor her as he moves. Though he starts slow, he strikes deep, bringing Pauling’s jaw slack. A moan tears from her throat -- almost a shout -- when he picks up speed. Flesh slaps against flesh, the only sound -- between their panting -- in the operating theatre. 

Almost comically, Medic’s small, round glasses slide off his nose, slipping with sweat, and clatter to the ground. He laughs, bemused and continues to pound away at Miss Pauling. In the interim, the slight woman has her grasp slipping against the table. It’s not a great anchor point, really, and he’s...a bit tall for her. 

“Medic?” she squeaks, gasping for air, “Can we...can we move?”

Ludwig looks surprised, but nods, catching his breath as sweat beads on his brow. He’s speaking all German now, and Miss Pauling can only decipher every other word. Something about her, she can gather, and a tense, busy energy that buzzes through his body like a wasp’s nest.

“Vhy don’t you hop up again, ja?” Ludwig moves around her, his cock slick with both their arousal as he moves to adjust the height of the table. Why he hadn’t done that  _ before _ , Pauling didn’t know. Either way, she slides back on top of the table, missing the spot her body heat had warmed. It was cold again, breaking her out in gooseflesh until Medic came to settle between her thighs. “Is this satisfactory?” questions Ludwig, though he doesn’t wait for her to answer. 

He’s in her again, cock twitching with delight. 

This time, his fingers brush quick, harsh circles over Miss Pauling’s sensitive bud while he thrusts. After all, this is about  _ her.  _ Or so he wanted her to think.

“ _ Du fühlst dich so gut an! Komm für mich, ja _ ?” rasps Medic, hips moving wildly as Pauling bites her knuckle again. She’s cute like that, he thinks. Like this. All flush-faced and undone. Suddenly, her petite form convulses and a pitched moan, a gasp, tears from her throat. Her hand snaps out, jerking Medic by his hair until she can wreath her arms about his shoulders. Her whole body trembles -- sex gripping Ludwig tight by the cock and pulsing all around him for a few glorious seconds.

She swore the stars burst somewhere inside her. 

“ _ Gutes mädchen! Ah- _ ” Ludwig slows, panting praises in a language the woman barely understands. 

He brings a hand to her chin, tipping her face to him near lovingly. It’s hard not to look at her that way with his cock still nestled inside. 

“Vas that good? It looked good from here.” he teases, thumb hooking between Pauling’s lips and pressing to her tongue. She nods dumbly, sighing through her nose. When she sucks his thumb, Ludwig thinks he might burst then and there. 

“ _ Wir sind noch nicht fertig, fraulein. _ ”

Medic’s wicked blue eyes lock on her gaze. “Be so kind, Miss Pauling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done yet. Forgive any bad German btw, relying on a translator!


	4. Thorough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic goes ham after giving P that big O she needed. He's a selfish fuck.

She almost seems dazed by Ludwig’s suggestion. Slowly, she nods, his thumb still against her tongue. She sucks that digit for a moment before releasing him with a  _ pop.  _ A promise of what’s to come? Pauling carefully pushes away from Medic. He, too, backs down, standing in wait while the woman wobbles. Naturally, Medic preens, delighted! He’d make sure she could barely walk when he was done with her.

As if practiced (and she might be, and so he hopes), she rests on her knees in front of Medic. There’s no waiting, no permission asked. Pauling simply sheds the condom from his cock and takes that hot thickness into her mouth. Ludwig gasps, a low moan rumbling in his chest. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to fuck her mouth. 

Instead, he shudders and forces himself to still.

Pauling can discern the level of self-control he exerts, but God if she doesn’t want to break him. Her head begins to bob, plush lips trailing over and back, over and back in a lazy rhythm. Her tongue flicks at the throbbing vein on the underside of his rigid sex, making Ludwig shudder and moan.

She’s being too slow. He can’t help it! Ludwig’s hips jerk forward, shoving his cock against the back of her throat. Miss Pauling’s eyes go wide, throat utterly rejecting him. She gags and sputters, pulling away. “ _ Jeez!  _ Don’t do that.”

Medic trembles, a feeling of...what was that? Anger? Anger. It washes over him as Pauling wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “My apologies,” he says stiffly. Is this woman really so amateur? 

Still, Ludwig waits patiently for Pauling to gather herself, threading his fingers through her hair when she returns to finish the job. This time, he lets her do the work of sucking his cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. But it’s not long before he’s bucking his hips, one hand in her hair becoming two at the back of her head. Keeping her from rejecting him again. 

She’s actually quite good, he thinks, when she’s not surprised by a cock jammed down her throat. Her expression was needy and wanton, a hum rumbling in her throat as he fucks her face. Making quite the mess of little Miss Pauling,  _ ho ho!  _

It doesn’t, somehow, feel like quite enough. Frowning, Medic presses against Pauling’s forehead, forcing them apart. His cock weeps with saliva and precum and lipstick marks, and to be honest, so did her pretty face. 

Ludwig leans down and seizes her in a kiss. They weren’t finished. Hungrily, Medic picks Pauling up. She gives a little yelp of surprise, having to remember the great weight he bore every day on the battlefield. Perhaps more than any of them. He was a strong man, with a sharp jawline and those  _ eyes… _

Dammit, Pauling. Stop swooning. This is a... _ transaction.  _ Nothing more. 

Oh. 

Her back rests suddenly back atop the table. It’s cooled again, a salve for her burning, sweaty skin. Ludwig plucks his glasses from the floor and returns them to his face. 

“ _ Ich werde dich jetzt in den arsch ficken, ja _ ?” he asks, a grin spreading over those chiseled features. Pauling hesitates. “Um. English, please.”

Ludwig reaches forward, idly stroking her clit as his eyes lock on hers. “I’m going to fuck you in the ass.” he repeats as if speaking to a small, dull child. He didn’t  _ mean  _ to be condescending, but...sometimes translating oneself was a chore. 

“..Oh.” she blinks. Her reaction was not quite what Medic expects. Pauling doesn’t balk or even act particularly embarrassed by the proposition. Instead, she loops her arms beneath her legs, folding herself up and exposing herself to him. An offering. “You better use lube, Medic. I  _ will  _ kill you.”

“That doesn’t look like the posture of someone who vould kill me.” he says, mocking indignation. Still, he does as he’s told, for her sake as well as his. Ludwig revisits the medicine cabinet. While he roots around for lubricant, Miss Pauling can only wonder why he has condoms and lube in the operating theatre. 

...Best not ask.

He’s back then, making Pauling yelp as he massages that soft, gentle pucker with an index finger loaded with cold lubricant. He pauses. “I did not hurt you, did I?”

“No! It’s cold!” Pauling rebuffs, wiggling a bit as Medic continues on, working his digit in and out slowly. When he notices her holding her breath, he leans over. “Relax,  _ fraulein. _ ”

Her breath comes out in a slow stream, eyes rolling shut. Pauling can’t help but bite her lip, taking in the prodding sensation. It grows easier as he moves. After a pause, she feels the chill of more lubricant and...another finger? Two, in easily. Huh. Maybe this wouldn’t be a big deal, it’s not like she hadn’t done it befo--

“Hhn!” Miss Pauling seized, suddenly aware that Ludwig had replaced his touch with his cock. Though he’d made her and himself ready, the sudden push through her resistance was enough to make her dizzy. “Oh fuck!” the woman whimpered. Her legs trembled and Ludwig grinned. His hips cant forward, burying himself more snugly into her ass. 

“ _ Du bist eng! _ ” Medic cackles with laughter. Quite tight, actually. It takes a moment to gain traction, Ludwig grunting as his force didn’t get him any deeper at first. He moaned then as her body relented, welcoming him inside almost suddenly. Her toes twitch and she cries wordlessly. Pauling’s breath begs heavily, desperate for air. 

Ludwig pays her no mind as she unravels -- instead, he crushes his hips against her, claiming her all for himself. “ _ Was für ein hübscher blick! Miss Pauling. _ .” The German grinds against her, testing the limits of her capacity. “You are so lovely when you’ve got my cock in you, ohoho!”

He watches her open her mouth to protest. The Medic bats at her hands, pulling her thighs apart around him and leaning over her. One firm thrust, sliding out only a few short inches before hilting her hard, shuts her up. Those large, practiced hands find purchase of Pauling’s throat. He doesn’t crush her, nor choke her. But he  _ controls  _ her just the same. 

Again, Ludwig can’t help but think she’s cute. All splayed out on  _ his  _ table, taking  _ his  _ cock. Her glasses even fog from the heat between them. Her face was red and flushed, surely with delight! The Medic’s hip roll again. Again. Building, building until he is a runaway train absolutely ravaging her body. 

The soft, wet slap of flesh punctuates the stillness around them. It’s satisfying -- more than he could every articulate. The pleasure knots in his belly, spinning tension in his loins and up into his back. Miss Pauling seems to have lost herself, fucked rather silly. Seeing her half-lidded eyes, slack jaw, and the gentle bounce of her breasts with each thrust…

_ Mein Gott! _

The tension snaps. Medic’s pace falters and his brow furrows as if he’s in  _ pain.  _ He’s gasping, moaning for breath as his cock twitches deep within those tight, ribbed walls. Miss Pauling doesn’t come again, but she  _ smiles.  _ Heat spreads even deeper than Ludwig had reached, his blessed release coating Pauling from the inside. The little assistant hums her satisfaction with him, turning her head to kiss one of the hands around her throat. 

He still looks to be pained, giving her a few last, wild thrusts as deep as he could manage. Then the pleasure of release washes him out to sea with a sigh. 

The Medic brushes a few stray hairs from Pauling’s face, utter contentment on his weary features. When he pulls out, it’s more satisfying than he could imagine. He’d made a little gape! Slick and wet and unable to contain him. With a finger, Ludwig swipes the bit of cum threatening to rush out of her, pushing it tenderly back inside of her.

It’s only then that the Administrator’s mousy assistant releases all of her tension and lies flat against the examination table. 

“Vell? Do you think you will sleep well now?” The Medic finally asks, face plastering with the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen.

  
“Sleep?” Pauling laughs. “Yeah. I don’t know about  _ walking _ , though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Yep, that's it! Truly PWP.


End file.
